


A Note About Beginnings

by MSaga



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen, Mythology-esque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSaga/pseuds/MSaga
Summary: How the Cathedral was created, and what happened afterwards.





	1. Chapter 1

The Southern Ice Fields weren’t always that way. 

In a different Age, they held many fruitful species, from plants to insects to all different kinds of animals. The Second Age, the Age of the Magi grew from its fruitful bosom, and repaid in kind with great temples, mighty castles, and even cathedrals. 

The cathedrals are of particular note to this story, so a proper description of one in its glory days seems in order. 

The form created to draw eyes towards the heavens, rising up to tower over the landscape. 

The great doors of wrought iron and stained glass depicted in painstaking beauty the Pillar and all the forces of nature, reminding all those who entered of the majesty they worshiped. 

The central hall, circular in shape and massive in dimension, was surrounded by circular windows portraying great Magi of the past, the ceiling itself sweeping up into a great barrel vault from which hung richly decorated tapestries with the symbols of the faith.

The eight pillars marking off elemental directions were each tiled in lavish mosaic devotion to that element, with scriptures written on every surface so as to better teach those admiring this feast for the eyes. 

The Scriptorium crouched next to the main hall, a great dome surrounded by gardens and walkways, inside the resting place of hundreds of books, workings, and devotional scriptures. The cathedral was not a library, after all, and focused on the production and housing of religious texts and maps of holy places. 

Behind the central tower sat a smaller, rectangular building- housing for acolytes and workers. 

Below the grounds were several cellars in which laundry was done, spirits were brewed, and all the daily tasks needed to keep the cathedral running smoothly occurred. 

In the stories above the great hall lay reliquaries and high level teaching rooms for the more powerful magi. 

Here were kept runestones, artifacts, and the most sacred knowledge. 

Finally, at either end of the grounds to the east and west, stood a small bell tower meant to guide worshipers in to worship.

Of course, that was in the glory days of the second age, when magi freely roamed the land and the gods slept. 

When the Arcanist awoke, he ruptured the earth and the structures atop tore with it. 

The Cathedral was not spared.

When the Shade attacked, though the world survived, the great continent splintered. 

The Cathedral was not spared.

What was once the breadbasket of the world drifted south, replaced by a great inland sea. 

The Cathedral was not spared.

As the gods argued, the plants and animals, not used to such cold climbs began to sicken and die. 

The Cathedral was not spared. 

When finally the Icewarden appeared to claim the land as his own, he reshaped the dying land in his own image, coating what was once filled with glorious tropical life in a shell of cold, changing the living creatures into those that could survive in his domain, and burying the remains of the Great Cathedral beneath the ice. 

There it sat, ruins carefully preserved for hundreds of years, until a young itinerant healer- priest called Xeo arrived on the Ice fields. 

He was looking for a place to set up a new outpost to heal and treat those lost in the blizzards and mirages common in that part of the realm. 

That is where the history of the Cathedral of Morax truly begins in the Age of Dragons. 

From here, stories fragment, truth and lies intertwine, and everyone wants something…


	2. Xeo's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work In Progress.   
> The story of Xeo's first few years in the Cathedral, up to finding Ceo and the first Wave.

He never mentioned where he came from. 

Like the few he treated in this lonely part of nowhere, he simply seemed to exist in the now, and might as well have been there since the First Age for all he changed.

He never asked for money from the lost travelers. A day’s work, perhaps, or if they couldn’t spare the time, a small amount of food.   
On the rare occasions a patient found themselves unable to give either, news of the doings of the outside world would be requested instead.   
So few came, he often went months without any news, much less word from his Order. 

Even when someone came, it was rare to see them again.

Only the smaller tribes lived in this part of the Icefield, and they kept to themselves, preferring their own healers and religion.

Xeo tried not to take it personally, but occasionally could be found staring out across the ice, dreaming of company for more than a few hours or days at a time.

Naturally, he greatly valued those few clanless wanderers who would stop in once every few months.

Eiyrrh and his son Span, Lua the explorer, occasionally Amourn or Moriian trekking back and forth for their clan’s endless peace negotiations.

Few other wanderers came more than once.   
Many did not even speak their names before moving on.


End file.
